


The Gauntlet

by orphan_account



Series: Hyoudou Issei's Happy Times [3]
Category: Highschool DxD (Anime)
Genre: Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 18:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20822129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I don't even care.I have no f**ks left to give.But I am afraid that despite my best efforts to write smut, I have...I have given this work...PLOT.





	The Gauntlet

Issei heard the cheerful sound of a bottle hitting the bottom of a vending machine as he pulled it out, uncapped it, and gulped down the all water in one go. he needed to refill on fluids, his notebook, now two days old, was filled with six entries, each only a second or two more advanced, _but don't scoff at progress_, he thought, sliding another coin into the machine, and watching as the seductive coil of metal loosed another bottle. He was debating how much of his allowance the school was probably sucking up through these machines when the bell rang, and school was out. As he pressed his body into the crowded hallway he felt the warm press of bodies and curves and..._ah what the Hell_, he thought turning his body to the boys room, _Let's make it a lucky number seven_.

* * *

Issei awoke to a new face on his alarm clock, a scolding little waifu with a ruler in hand, _don't remember setting that preference_, he thought as he got up, he felt the cold air stretch across his legs, up the back of his thighs and right across his ass, his ass that should be covered, his ass that he always had white boxers over; sure enough, looking down he was greeted by the pale tip of his dick, curling up in the cold air so ti was partially hidden by the t-shirt that he had been mercifully allowed to keep. He tucked that thing over his crotch, cupping his goods as he frog-legged across the room to open up the dresser, with one hand he opened the top drawer, but in place of the rough fabric of his white boxers he saw something he hadn't seen since he was a little boy; tighty whities. Row upon row of them, neatly folded into squares like when he'd been small, he peered back past them, expecting to see a pair of floppy freeing shorts hiding in the back corner. No such luck.

He reached into the back, feeling the soft white fabric and the coarseness of the exposed elastic, but there was only one layer of such garments. And he was resigned to wear them, or you could go commando? he thought, dreading the idea of resigning himself to another stretch of time confined to the tight ball-crushing pressure of briefs, he skipped that first phase of dressing and threw on a pair of dark pants, his school shirt and blazer, and made his way downstairs. His mother was at the table, and as he rounded the bottom step he looked up, her face was like ice, and suddenly a little bulb went off in Issei's head. He stopped in his tracks,his mother put down her mug and folding her hands under her chin asked "Something bothering you Issei?"

"Yeah" Issei said, resuming his pace, straightening his back to be at his full five foot seven, he strode into the kitchen and with one hand pulled back a chair, seated himself and placed his own hands, folded on the table, two fists intertwined. 

"Someone seems to have raided my bedroom" he said, taking a spoonful of..._since when do we eat Kellogs oats? _

"What would make you say that?" his mother said, calmly placing her coffee to her lips, she always did that when she was trying not to smile. _still can't keep a secret can you?_

"Woke up half-naked--"

"Well, is that so abnormal for you?" she said, now her little Cheshire cat smile appeared, smug as a banker.

"I suppose not, it's just I don't remember jacking off last night" he said, watching his mother visibly shudder, and repress a scowl. 

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't, after all, you're probably empty by now"

"What?"

"School called, a teacher saw you rushing off to the bathroom with a..." she struggled for a second, before Issei, eyes rolled replied 

"With a boner?"

"Must you talk liek that?

"You're the one who gave me underwear for five year olds--"

"Well, you have a five-year old's impulse control" she snapped, her mug once again in her hand. 

"You're really gonna trust some teach--"

"You need to Stop." she said, her veins popping 

"Stop having erections--?"

"Well you always said you found those uncomfortable" she muttered, in between sips of hot liquid, "Though knowing you, you'll find some way to make this _disgusting_ again"

"really?"

"Yes. Bare minimum I won't have to here from some crying first time teacher who apparently can't children now--"

"How does that relate, and how did she even see--?"

"You Wear Boxers! Under loose pants! How do you think she noticed?"

"Fine...sorry to have been such an inconvenience" Issei said, leaving a spoon in his cereal before his mother quipped "I spent good money on those, the least you could do is wear them"

* * *

Issei tried to hide his awkward crab walk as he made his way into the school, he felt like his balls were in a vice grip, he didn't get how some adults willingly got back into these things, he could already feel the elastic leaving marks on his thighs, and as for his dick, the poor thing was trapped, and numb, placed down and held there by a prison of fabric he could barely feel it anymore, which to Issei was a little like losing an arm. He was accustomed to strolling on to campus, his family-maker swinging freely in the circus tent of his boxers, the cool breeze on his nuts, now he walked with an awkward cramped, and pressure built stack of dimes with two compressed testosterone distributors.

Sitting down had never been so uncomfortable, _but I'll be damned, if I let a fabric stop me_, he thought, as he eyed Mina, or was it Mira? Mi-soemthing, he used a key analysis of the stimuli before him, to determine that Mi-whatever was an A-cup, _not ideal, but, it's early_, he thought, as they stood up for attention, he stood alone. _What?_ He looked down at his crotch, and it looked exactly how it felt, like it wasn't even there ,_ come on big guy...we gotta get to practice_.

It remained unresponsive.

Issei Hyoudou sat down and opened his text book. The whole day his head never lifted up from the page, which his teachers took for focus, indeed all of them commented that they'd never seen him so intently staring down his books.

* * *

As Issei kicked off his runners that evening he saw his mother and father dining in the kitchen, as per usual, his mother raised a glass of white wine to him, a smug smile on her face.

"How was your day _sweetie_?"

"Go to Hell"

"Well, that's not fair, sweetheart, you've got a mile head start on me"

"can you two ever just try and get along?" his father asked, as Issei marched up the stairs to his bedroom.

* * *

Small, a little S on the label of Issei's Briefs announced, so that explains the lack of blood flow, he thought as he reluctantly slid the tiny band of cloth back over his hips, spreading his legs wide he collapsed onto the Futon. He pulled the stop watch out of the blazer he was still wearing, the slim circle of silver shining in the late afternoon light, a faint orange, burgeoning on red, he let it fall to his side with a sigh. He looked won to see the flattened source of pride, painted now more orange, and less white by the setting sun; he was tempted to lather up a hand, stick it down there and hope for the best, but at this point it would be more like playing with rope for the lack of blood flow. He stood up, taking off the blazer, shedding his shirt, readying fro bed, when he noticed in the read light; the protrusion of one sleeve, oddly shaped, he pulled it out to find that most enrapturing of images, and felt his dick twitch.

He looked down, he could feel it now, really feel it, straining against a wall of pale fabric that kept it in line by only the strength of it's Y-front...wait, he felt the front of his underwear, felt the crotch rise to meet him, straining against it's fabric prison, he ran one finger down the thick seam, meant to make urinal use more efficient, but now, now they would be window, to set his free. 

He steadied himself, fumbled in the pockets of his now discarded uniform till he found those tools, briefly abandoned, now awaiting use. He flipped open his Y-front, allowing the man pillar to erupt through a set of folds he couldn't help but imagine as similar to certain other folds he hoped to enter. He lathered up his hand, with a satisfyign squish he closed that hand, and with the other clicked on his stopwatch. 

The soft comfort of his underwear gently lifted and tocuhed his butt, he felt warm as he stuff his hand into a creamy wet hole of his own making, and thrusted in and out scattering little globs of white moisturizer across the floor, soon he was on his knees, he felt pressure build,_ damn, spent all day pent up, okay, focus, in and out, breathe_, he took a few satisfying breathes but the pain was still there, as he felt his underwear clench in time with him he couldn't help but picture a soft woman hand dragged across his backside. He wanted to cum with each stroke, but no, he would make this last, he would ruin these things. 

He felt the pressure building as he eyed his beloved lady, with her long red hair, he stoke and at last his dick felt like it was bleeding out hot shots of white pain as he climaxed. leaning back, as he decorated his chest in hot warm globs of salty white Issei juice, he took a deep sigh, lifted the clock to his face and saw a new number 

60 seconds.


End file.
